Cash Crisis

Those of you who read my books will know that I fall in love every day, and have done ever since puberty. Hopelessly, all-consumingly in love. The kind of love where you’re walking along minding your own business and wham, beauty comes out of nowhere and smacks you in the kisser. It could be a beautiful pair of eyes. It often is. Or a heart-breaking smile. It could just as easily be a swan-like neck or pair of shoulders, or a set of ankles only god or Rodin could have put on a woman. Or, in the case of today, a traffic-stopping body in a clingy dress. Here’s what happened to me when I took a walk into town at lunchtime and fell catastrophically in love with a girl I saw at the Sainsbury’s cashpoint, who I never saw before in my life, never spoke to, and will more than likely never see again for the rest of my born days. She exited my existence as abruptly as she entered, blazing incandescently for those few brief moments in my life. I don’t think I even glimpsed her face. All I saw was her ass, and I was gone. Mesmerised, like a gawping zombie. I fell in love with an ass. By the time I’d walked back to work I’d written this poem about her. It. Here it is.

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Hi there

Welcome to the website of Frank Bukowski - author, poet, father, philosopher and proponent of the doctrine of free love. Warning: this website contains examples of Frank's dangerous writing, rare archive recordings of him reading his work, even rarer photographic evidence that he exists, occasional blog posts, and links to his seminal works of literature. Seminal is one of Frank's favourite words. Peace and love.